"normalization" poems
I used to identify with this idea of self
but it’s become an empty canvas,
a memory of romanticizing help
from being attached to words and panic
like they are the resolution to this
normalization spell
Coming to terms has kept me awake,
knowing that perceptions are lies
and with this continued heavy weight
from seeking external answers
my eyes will forever stay open,
devoid of the internal ocean
Burnt out from each day
maybe I was meant for the night
if I’m still finding ways to shake,
still saying good morning to the stars
wondering what this all means
and where the answers are
But here is good enough
to contemplate
while we humans
peddle our ignorance,
shy from possibilities that are endless,
afraid of simplicity
that is timeless:
ignoring nowhere
when it is somewhere,
though we mustn’t bask in fear,
no one ever arrives late-
if suffering occurs from attachment
then letting go must be
the way to stay sane
Right?
Sep 13, 2025
Sep 13, 2025 at 11:37 AM UTC
Mass appeal is mistaken for quality.
Communication makes a poor commodity.
TV shows you how to be and what to think.
This normalization is enforced vulgarity;
in the common, Value is lost in translation.
For a slave, meaning comes from authority;
guidelines from following superstition;
truth from the politicization of science;
acceptance from the surrender of identity;
morality the mortar that coheres the chains.
Beware accolades, whether peer or stranger.
A tempting gratification yields mediocrity alone,
self-indulgent narcissism too shallow to measure;
for in the end, it is always so that the unremarkable
is celebrated most vehemently by the unremarkable.
Nov 22, 2013
Nov 22, 2013 at 8:12 PM UTC
I happen upon this realization tonight, this one among many others:
I keep many lovely "Night Buds..."
in a collective nocturnal realm.
That is to say, good sirs and madams who care to lend their individual respective gentle ears for the sparing;
There are many women with whom I only seem to engage with in conversation or for companionship as night time falls over my conscious self.
I happened upon this truth earlier tonight in deep reflection, my friends and fellows.
And I wonder to myself, to what significance do these few coincidental female fates have on my person?
Am I more friendly at night, when the sun is gone and the moon is up? Is this the fate I have fallen to? Is this the life I've made?
Am I more alive than dead when my motionless body just crawls into bed and I lye there for hours or days at a time and feel happier alone in that bed than when I'm out around the house with my family; this because I've forgotten how to love, and their beautiful friendship makes me terribly saddened by the wish to reciprocate such friendship, but all for not...as I cannot love anymore.
I'm saddened by love, I've only the Night Buds to turn to and share my woes with collectively.
I wish I could be strong like some, and have no need to turn to Night Buds for consoling, for deflating my troubles, and for wishing good fortune.
I perhaps someday shall not have such need, but for now, I'll work on improving and keep my Night Buds all the same.
You see I really am quite found of my Night Buds: they make me feel like life is not all that bad, and that choosing to feel happy is the only way to really in fact be happy, regardless of living situation (though I still struggle to swallow that pill of logic).
Until my heart dance slows and I express this sentiment of self-realization aloud, I shan't sleep a peep.
Post- heart normalization and expression, I will perhaps have slipped off into a final slumber...thereafter having only this to say:
Night Bud!
Jun 22, 2014
Jun 22, 2014 at 2:06 AM UTC
Touch my breast
Touch my ***
Everybody thinks those are public properties
Fight for the right of being women
Offended by sexiest jokes
Everybody judges me as a convensional boring chick
**** my body
**** my free willing of going every where without afraid for becoming an object of cat calling
Everybody calls it, modernist
women need another level of being open
Ask me my phone number
Follow me until finding where my home
Everybody labels it as madly falling in love, women dont need to be terrified
Nov 26, 2021
Nov 26, 2021 at 1:49 AM UTC
History of the before teaches nothing
Civilization is mere normalization adorned
they are the self-appointed Olympians demigods
the pigment-less errants who ran down albino way
to learn from the rebellious Angel his innovative styles
Anointed souls who stayed in the Kingdom of Truth
blessed and sheltered under the light of the True Living King
imbued piously with messages of love unity and salvation for all
are mere weakened fools seeking peace denying heady excitement
for there's power, lust, riches, fame fortune and control to be found
Hence they divided and assigned varying colours
In rebellious mischief call the devoted black in my honour
ordains the leader of Rebels intoxicated in banishment and sin
my fellow ****** followers adorned yourselves as white doves
you will learn great evil, wickedness, bloodlust and utter destruction
We are the masters, the Controllers, there is no God
go forth and populate, ravage and plunder take as you please
subjugate and deceive, lie and **** and drink their blood in victory
fallen from Grace let's go befall woe, pestilence, miseries destruction
In God's made Kingdom we and our children will rule with no mercy
The spawns who know more than God take control
all four corners of the earth sowing fear discontent and discords
hatred, injustices, bloodshed, sorrow, pain abominations galore
thieves and cut-throats merchants in white masks they shower terror
History of the before teaches nothing, the demigods rules
Jan 20, 2019
Jan 20, 2019 at 4:52 AM UTC
I need a break
from this unbreakable chain
of oppressive concealment
maybe not enough people care
the more violent
the more pain
there is there
We are having a reaction
to the chains
chronological revolt syndrome
symbiotic backlash
normalization of freedom fought for
Sep 22, 2016
Sep 22, 2016 at 3:17 PM UTC
Im trapped in a dead body
A mind of insanity
And a soul of hope
My brain has rotted in the ground of American humanity
I am lost on the depths of normalization
I’m tired
I’m broken
I’m the living dead
Nov 23, 2015
Nov 23, 2015 at 10:56 PM UTC
Desperate magicians
pulling symbols out of thin air,
pretending they have weight.
We glue stories to
death,
joy,
love,
hate,
and call it meaning,
but at the core it’s hollow,
a forced construct to keep our heads from snapping off
or caving in
during the reality of unfathomable chaos.
Religion is condensed hate masquerading as caring.
We don't care about anyone but our children or our parents.
Not actually, not systemically, not practically.
It’s brutal
and seems freeing at the same time:
If , nothing HAS to mean anything.
yet we obsessively insist that it does.
We carve sense out of
nonsense,
hope out of
despair,
and call it life
or living.
If we the people took the power away
from those we abdicated it to
what would really happen ?
Freedom ?
No....
it's our recursive nature
to hurt
to enslave
to horde
to lust
to desire to be better.
Better than what?
Look at the deer, the birds , the bears, the fish
you see them punching the clock ? Or foreclosing on Gramma ?
Handing over our
agency
to a system
designed so that thoughts and feelings are as meaningless as circumstance .
Greed engineered to fail the whole. but benefit those making the rules. We chose to blind ourselves and worse yet our children.
Rules are an an attempt to control the future based on the mistakes of the past.
You and your voice means nothing
never has,
never will .
The normalization of brainwashing
and the idea that asking a question is wrong,
thanks Jesus.
Sep 3, 2025
Sep 3, 2025 at 3:23 AM UTC